Oy. Last night, something terrible happened: two of my children refused to sleep. All night long. And in a novel turn of events, instead of punching the Ogre in the arm until he got up and dealt with said offspring, I got up myself. The baby was sleeping peacefully, the Ogre was sleeping peacefully, and I uncharacteristically decided that perhaps I should forego the siren song of REM sleep to let my poor husband get some rest.
Oh. My. Gosh. I feel like I’m swimming underwater today. This is horrible! Is this what normal mothers feel like, all the time? I mean, I co-sleep so I don’t have to lose a second of sleep, and the Ogre gets up with the older kids so he doesn’t have to deal with me if I’ve lost a second of sleep, so it’s pretty unusual for me to be running on four hours of sleep. I’m actually kind of giddy with the half-drunken feeling of sleep deprivation mingled with the righteous satisfaction of personal sacrifice, but I bet that wears off pretty quickly for moms who do this every night. All I can so to those mothers is this: you are a better woman than I am. But exponentially better. You’re amazing. And I truly hope I never have to walk another mile in your shoes.
So without further ado, here are this week’s quick takes.
|My ogre doesn’t wear a loincloth or an eye patch, but he does have a necklace made of the teeth of his enemies|